The Shelf and Other Stories
by annebd
Summary: A random assortment of drabbles, flash fics and flabbles. Keep in mind that they don't all follow the same story line. Mainly Harm and Mac shippery-ness. Feedback is encouraged. I'm still taking drabble requests, fyi.
1. The Shelf

The Shelf   
  
A/N: Okay, so this is my attempt at a flash fic. It's 125 words, which isn't 100 or 155. I think flash fics are supposed to be one of the two. Oh well. We'll survive. Please read and review. This made me giggle; I hope it does the same for you. I also hope that it makes sense.  
  
"Oh, crap!"  
  
"What?"  
  
"I just hit my head on that shelf."  
  
"What shelf? Oh, crap!"  
  
"That shelf. Remind me again why we're trapped in a supply closet in complete and total darkness."  
  
"Because we're trying to be adventurous, and this was supposed to be fun and kinky."  
  
"And, surprisingly, it hasn't been either. It's been painful and dark."  
  
"Well, if I could find you, we could make it fun and kinky."  
  
"So come find me."  
  
"Is that you?"  
  
"Nope, that's the shelf."  
  
"Is this you?"  
  
"Oh, forget it, Harm. Let's just get back to work. This isn't gonna happen."  
  
"Oh, come on, Mac. Just a little quickie, please?"  
  
"What's going on in here?"  
  
"Nothing, sir." "Nothing, sir."  
  
"Oh, crap! What is that?"   
  
"A shelf, Admiral." 


	2. Shattered

Shattered  
  
The first time he saw her, she was standing in a rose garden. Her back was turned towards him. As she turned, his heart leapt into his throat. She was alive. His one true love had come back to him. God was giving him a second chance. He wanted to reach out and grab her, touch every part of her to make sure that she was real. He didn't care that the Admiral was standing right next to him. But then she spoke. His false hope shattered around him. It wasn't her. She wasn't his one true love...or was she? 


	3. Sunlight Angel

Sunlight Angel  
  
He awoke early, the sun barely visible behind the clouds. The little light it gave off shone through the window and settled lightly over the blanketed form next to him. He loved to watch her sleep. He traced the curves of her body with his eyes. He watched the steady rise and fall of her chest, the fluttering of her eyelids, the way her skin shimmered as the light danced over it. In her sleep, the tough Marine look she wore all day melted away to reveal that angelic pout he loved so much. He kissed her cheek lightly, and, contented, went back to sleep. 


	4. Haute Cuisine

Haute Cuisine  
  
"Don't knock it 'til you try it," he laughed at the expression of utter disgust on his partner's face.  
  
"Are you kidding? That's just wrong. Why on earth would you do that?" she replied, grimacing even more. She knew that agreeing to have dinner with him was asking for trouble, especially after he had stated that it was going to be "something new." In his kitchen, new meant dangerous.  
  
"It's haute cuisine, Mac. It's French. It's a delicacy," Harm proffered the offending item. He was enjoying torturing her like this far more than he should have.  
  
She backed away slowly. "Don't come near me with that thing! It's not a delicacy; it's disgusting. I'm perfectly happy with my Beltway Burgers, thank you. That's enough 'haute cuisine' for me."  
  
"I don't see what the problem is. It's just a little appetizer."  
  
"No, Harm. Nachos are just a little appetizer. Snails with garlic sauce are just wrong." 


	5. The Unsaid

The Unsaid  
  
The words swirled around in her head. I love you. I love you. I love you. She couldn't respond. It had taken her by surprise. So she said nothing. If she could have changed the world, she would have, if only to take away the look of pain and betrayal that flew across his eyes as they'd stood in silence. She tried to beg him not to leave, but she still couldn't form the words he so desperately needed to hear. He simply nodded, gave her a sad, knowing smile and walked out of the door. I love you, too. 


	6. Circus

Circus  
  
"You've never been to the circus?"  
  
"No. My parents never got around to taking me, and as I got older, it just lost its appeal."  
  
"Yeah, right."  
  
"What? It did."  
  
"The circus can't lose its appeal. The only way for that to happen would be if you were completely deaf and blind. So what's the real reason?"  
  
"Imkindascaredaclowns."  
  
"I'm sorry, Mac, I couldn't hear you. What was that?"  
  
"I said, Imkindascaredaclowns."  
  
"Sorry, still can't hear you."  
  
"I SAID, I'm scared of clowns! Are you happy now? The big, bad marine is scared of a guy with a red nose and huge feet."  
  
"Well, if it makes you feel any better, Michael Flatley, Lord of the Dance, scares the crap out of me." 


	7. Babies

Babies  
  
(If you haven't read my story "Whose Baby?" this might not make a lot of sense.)  
  
"So, when am I going to have a little sister to spoil?"  
  
"Taylor Elizabeth, we've been over this. Your mother and I are way too old to be having babies."  
  
"That's not true. Women can have healthy children well into their late thirties and early forties. And Charlie Chaplin had babies when he was seventy."  
  
"Good for him. But WE are not having a baby. You were difficult enough when you were little."  
  
"Daddy, you only met me when I was fifteen. How exactly do you know that I was a difficult baby?"  
  
"I'm a father. We know these things."  
  
"Right." 


	8. Morning Rush

Morning Rush  
  
Damn it! She was late. Again. She always started out with the best of intentions. Shower, dress, leave. But about a third of the way through her first objective, he'd lazily open the shower door, flash that damned smile of his, and slip under the hot, steady stream of water. She'd groan inwardly, because she knew she didn't have the strength to resist him. She'd try to chide him verbally, but he silenced her easily with a kiss that set her nerves tingling all the way down to her toes. So, once again, she'd give in. They'd stay under the stream of water until it went from hot to lukewarm to cold. Not that they noticed. The heat radiating from their touch was enough to keep them warm despite the frigid water spraying upon them. Finally, exhausted, they'd extricate themselves from each other's embrace and dress in silence. 0817. Damn it. She was late again. 


	9. Decisions

Decisions  
  
(Once again, might not make sense if you haven't read "WB?")  
  
They'd both always wanted to have children. They'd even gone so far as to make a deal that one day, far away, they would have a baby together. But once Taylor came along, she assumed that their baby days were behind them. Taylor was the most perfect person she could ever have hoped to have as a child. Although she occasionally felt sad that she hadn't been able to raise her daughter from birth, she knew that Taylor had had a good mother. So she was perfectly content with her husband and child and the life they lived. But one day, she didn't feel quite right. And the two pink lines didn't mean the right thing. She had to make a decision. Was this something she still wanted, or was she just going to accept it because she knew that he would be overjoyed? And either way, was there only one absolutely correct decision? 


	10. Afternoon Hike

Afternoon Hike  
  
"This is not funny," Harm glared at Mac in an attempt to kill her with the evil eye.  
  
"Oh, I'm sorry, Harm. I'm sure it's really painful, but come on," Mac said through fits of giggles. "You have to admit there's a funny side to it."  
  
"No, Mac. I don't. I don't have to admit to anything. In fact, you're the one who should be admitting to getting me into this mess."  
  
Mac stared at her partner, best friend, confidant and husband. He was so many things to her, and he meant so much, but she couldn't stop laughing. "I do admit that going for a hike was my idea, but I am completely not to blame for a porcupine attacking you and shooting six quills into your...well, six." Mac exploded into another fit of giggles.  
  
Harm was about to start yelling about how the situation still wasn't funny when a nurse walked into the room holding what appeared to be a pair of giant tweezers.  
  
"All right," she said. "Let's see some butt." 


	11. Another Shelf

Another Shelve  
  
(Once again, mentions Taylor from WB?)  
  
"Holy motherfu-"  
  
"Daddy! Such language!" Taylor chided jokingly. "Even if you are a sailor."  
  
"Funny, Taylor," Harm replied, shaking his throbbing thumb vigorously in a futile attempt to make it stop hurting. He had just smacked himself with a hammer. "Remind me why I'm doing this again."  
  
"Because I wanted floating bookshelves," his daughter replied succinctly. "Why? Are you having doubts?"  
  
Harm glared at his daughter. Then he turned back to look at the mess he'd created. Besides his thumb being the size of a baseball, he had managed to misjudge the location of seven studs, cut the shelves to different lengths, break an unbreakable spirit level, and amass more plaster on the floor than he left in the wall. "Actually, babe, I'm beginning to think that you should have let your mother handle this one."  
  
"I know, Daddy," Taylor smiled. "I already did."  
  
Harm followed her gaze to see, on the opposite wall, three perfectly built floating shelves. 


	12. In the Looking Glass

In the Looking Glass  
  
She was not by nature a jealous woman. She had always been secure enough in herself, in her beauty, in her intelligence, and in her right hook, that she almost never felt threatened by other women. She knew that he loved her, and she knew the power she held over him. So she was completely baffled by the fact that for the first time in as long as she could remember, she was jealous. The first time that that woman had walked into JAG headquarters, and he'd practically given himself whiplash trying to catch a glimpse of her, she had been jealous. She'd brought up the subject over dinner that night, but of course he denied it. The woman at headquarters was just another pretty face, he'd told her. No one could compare to her in his eyes. They were nothing alike, so what could he possibly see in her? But that struck a chord. She realized why she was having these feelings. They were more alike than he knew, and wasn't it true that you always hated those who forced you to confront your true self? So maybe she wasn't jealous. Maybe she just wasn't in the mood for self-reflection.  
  
A/N: Howdy! This was kind of a strange one, huh? Don't bother asking who the woman is, because honestly I don't know. I need to ask a favor. I'm currently working on a sequel to "Whose Baby?" and I'm thinking that I should get a beta...or two. I really want this one to be good, so I'd like to get as much input as possible. If you'd like to be my beta, please leave a review to this story with your e-mail address. I will contact you ASAP. Thank you. 


	13. A Litte Pick Me Up

A Little Pick-Me-Up  
  
Harm was miserable.  
  
His day had, for lack of a better word, sucked. He had been late to work-again-and the admiral chewed his butt out for it. He lost a case that should have been a slam-dunk. He had approximately seventy-eight thousand case files that he'd had to review. He had to work through lunch, so he was starved. And, to add insult to injury, it was raining.  
  
He marched dejectedly up the stairs, wanting only to strip out of his wet clothes and get into something comfortable. When he got upstairs, he noted with some confusion that the bedroom door was closed, and when he opened it, his heart jumped.  
  
On the bed was one Sarah MacKenzie, wearing nothing more than a bed sheet and a smile.  
  
"When I called you today, you sounded like you could use a little pick-me-up," she purred.  
  
"You have no idea," Harm said, closing the door behind him. 


	14. Dreams

Dreams  
  
"What did you want to be when you were a kid?" Taylor asked Harm. She, Harm and Mac were sitting on the couch watching TV when the thought struck her.  
  
"A pilot," Harm answered.  
  
"Always? You never wanted to be anything else? Firefighter? Astronaut?" she asked.  
  
"No, always a pilot," Harm responded. "I wanted to follow in my father's footsteps."  
  
"What about you?" Taylor asked, turning her attention to her mother.  
  
Mac thought about the question for a moment before responding. "A doctor. I used to pretend that my dolls were sick, and I would set up a 'hospital' in my bedroom. I could always cure their problems, even when I couldn't fix my own, or my parents'."   
  
Taylor noticed the look on Mac's face, one of suppressed sadness. The follow-up question died on her lips.  
  
Suddenly, Taylor turned to Mac. "Mom?"  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"I'm sorry you couldn't fix your family," Taylor whispered. "But, if it's any consolation, you're more than making up for it now." 


	15. Caught Up In A Dream

Caught Up In A Dream  
  
I'm caught up in a dream  
I'm gonna wish for it all  
No one is gonna tell me how  
No way, this is my dream now  
I'm caught up in what seems  
Simply impossible  
I ain't gonna change a thing  
No way, it's my dream

Tesla, "Caught Up In A Dream"  
  
This is what I've wished for since I saw him in the rose garden. As trite as it sounds, he rendered me weak in the knees with that smile of his; the one I later discovered was as infamous as he was himself. The way he looked at me was enough to make me shiver. I later discovered that the look in his eyes -the one I was sure was love- was not for me, but for someone else. Despite that, I wished that one day he would look at me that way again. And he did.  
  
He does.  
  
This is my dream. Every morning I wake up next to the man of my dreams. I wake up to find his arms wrapped around me, his legs entwined in mine. And, when I kiss him gently on the lips to wake him up, he slowly opens his eyes. In those eyes is the look that I dreamed of. The look of love, absolutely.


	16. Proclivities

Proclivities  
  
"I'm bored."  
  
"Do I look like I care?"  
  
"I don't know. I can't see. It's too dark in here."  
  
"I can't believe you talked me into doing this. **Again**. I should have learned from the fiasco last time, but no. I think I'm just a masochist."  
  
"Really? Wanna give the whole BDSM thing a try?"  
  
"Harmon Rabb, I'm going to attribute that comment to the fact that we've been trapped in this godforsaken supply closet for 57 minutes without an adequate oxygen supply, because, if I don't, I might just come over there and strangle you."  
  
"Sorry."  
  
"Uh-huh."  
  
"Should we try yelling for help again?"  
  
"What's the point? Everyone's already left for the night. That's why we decided to do this now, remember? Less chance of getting caught."  
  
"I'm bored again."  
  
"Don't make me hurt you."  
  
"I thought you didn't want to do BDSM."  
  
"HARM!"  
  
"Sorry."  
  
"Uh-huh." 


	17. Manna

Manna

"There's an essential difference between scooping and dipping. Scooping is when you want full chip coverage. Dipping is far more minimalistic."

"You're kidding, right?"

"What? This is a fine art."

"Mac, they're just chips and salsa. I don't see what the fuss is about."

Mac spun around violently to face Harm. She regarded him with a look of complete disbelief. "Just chips and salsa? **Just **chips and salsa? I'll have you know that this particular combination of delicacies is manna from heaven. Got it?"

Harm stared at the tortilla chip Mac was pointing at him in a slightly threatening, if not highly amusing, way. Realizing that this was one fight he wasn't going to win, he sighed and picked up a chip. "So, what's the difference between scooping and dipping again?"


	18. Truth or Dare

Truth or Dare

"Truth or dare?"

Harm flipped down the top half of the newspaper he had been reading and stared at Mac quizzically. "Excuse me?"

"I said, 'truth or dare?'"

"Mac, we're at least twenty-five years too old for that," Harm replied, returning his attention to his newspaper article.

"Speak for yourself, old man," Mac returned.

"Old man, huh? Fine," Harm said, putting down his newspaper. "Truth."

"Okay. How old you were when you lost your virginity? And you have to tell the truth, remember."

"Sixteen. Truth or dare."

"Truth."  
  
"Who was your first kiss?"

"James Avery. It was in fifth grade, on the swings in the playground. Truth or dare?"

"Truth."

"Who was your best kiss?"

"I don't know," Harm said as he leaned over towards Mac. He kissed her lightly and then more urgently, until they were both struggling for air. "Hmm. Now I know. Laura Davis."

Mac laughed as she slapped Harm on the shoulder. "Smart-ass," she said as she lay in his arms, her head resting on his shoulder.

"Hey, Mac?"

"Yeah?"

"Why is it called 'Truth or Dare' when no one ever chooses dare?"

"I don't know, Harm. But how about this? I dare you to see what happens if you ever mention Laura Davis again."

"Nevermind."

"I thought so."

AN: Wow, that was kinda long. I want to run an idea by y'all. I have relatively annoying writer's block with this series, so I have a proposition. Leave a review for this story with an idea for a drabble/flabble/flash fic/really short story. Include the characters you want in it and a line of dialogue you want to be used. I'll take it and write a story for it. How does that sound? Hopefully it'll work, so hit that review button and start writing.


	19. A Bet's A Bet

A/N: This one is for **SMKlegacy**. I hope you enjoy it. Alas, **anna7** , Mattie does not exist in this little world of mine. I don't know her character well enough to write her. Sorry. But if you, or anyone else, have another story you want me to write, please say so. These are actually kinda fun.

A Bet's A Bet

Harm stared at the offending items: a Beltway burger, french fries and a chocolate shake. He estimated that his cholesterol would shoot up twenty points just by looking at the monstrosities. He glanced up from the so-called "food" to see Mac staring at him intently.

"Go ahead, Flyboy," she said with a smile. "Eat up."

"You aren't serious, Mac," he stammered. "I can't eat this..this stuff."

"Oh, I'm completely serious, Harmon," Mac replied with a mischevious grin. "A bet's a bet. Besides, you would have made me eat snails if you had won, wouldn't you?"

"It's called escargot, Mac. And I wouldn't have forced you to," Harm whined pitifully.

"Yeah, right. Eat up, buddy boy."

Harm picked up the burger. He shivered slightly as his stomach turned at the sight and sound of a drop of grease sliding off the burger and landing with an audible "plop" on the paper below. As Harm swallowed down the first greasy bite, he thought miserably, "Note to self: never make a can't-lose bet with Mac again. Ever."


	20. Saved by the Admiral

Saved by the Admiral

"Hey, gorgeous," Harm whispered into the brunette's ear as he walked up behind her. He had managed to escape Chegwidden's wrath long enough to creep into Mac's office. He wrapped his arms around her waist and bit her neck gently as he said, "I'm up for a quickie in the closet if you are."

"I'd love to," the woman in his arms replied as she turned around to face him, "but I'm afraid that I prefer to know at least the man's name before I head off for a quickie in the supply closet with him."

Harm gaped. "You-you're not Mac," he said, quickly withdrawing his arms and stepping back several feet.

"No, actually I'm Lieutenant Colonel Grey. Colonel MacKenzie let me use her office for the day," the Colonel replied with a smile.

"Oh, well I usually don't...I mean I..." Harm sputtered.

"I see you've met Col. Grey, Harm," Mac said, walking into the office.

Harm stared first at Mac, then at Col. Grey, then back at Mac.

"I-I-"

"Rabb," the Admiral bellowed from his office.

"I have to go."

A/N: I'm all about sex in a supply closet. I really don't know why. I hope this one made sense. I wrote it last night as I was practically falling asleep. BTW, I'm still taking drabble request ideas, so if you have them, give 'em to me. Thanks!


End file.
